Chapter 42: Impossible

Sometimes, Si Nuosang could sense it herself—she always uttered threats that were ultimately powerless, and Xuanyuan Juesi would rarely heed her warnings. Yet, if she didn’t say anything, it would seem as though she were deliberately allowing him to act as he pleased.

Other methods were useless for Si Nuosang; all she could do was argue. Her skills were decent, but compared to Xuanyuan Juesi, there was a vast gap. Were all people in ancient times so physically gifted, or was it only Xuanyuan Juesi?

“I truly don’t wish to make things difficult for you, but you insist on doing things that leave me no choice, Si Nuosang. I don’t think there’s any need for us to be like this. Is it really so hard for us to get along?”

Faced with his earnestness, Si Nuosang regarded it as nothing more than a joke, which did make him look quite pitiful. But it was not enough to throw him off balance.

“Get along? Why should I get along with you? I am not your wife, even less your princess. I am only here because I have no other choice. Don’t act as if I owe you something. In the end, you are the one who hurt me!”

Si Nuosang looked at Xuanyuan Juesi—it was he who had made things come to this. And now he expected her to give in and live harmoniously? Impossible. She had never intended to get along with him from the very beginning. Time and again, it was Xuanyuan Juesi who forced her to compromise.

After she destroyed his tree this time, it was as if they had reached a breaking point, compelling them to change the way they interacted.

“Yes, why should you get along with me?” Hearing her words, he truly felt a pang of sadness, but what could he say? She had already made herself clear.

“Hmph! Even if you think this way, you still can’t escape me. I won’t let you go.”

Xuanyuan Juesi had his own considerations, his own private motives.

“Hmph, and why, exactly? Don’t bring up the matter of the Fifth Leaf again to trouble me. You’ve already sent men to Fusang for that, haven’t you? I suppose by now you know the answer, don’t you?”

She stared at Xuanyuan Juesi—did he really think she was a fool? Si Nuosang was not that naïve.

“It seems you know quite a lot,” he remarked.

“Of course I do. I simply kept silent because it wasn’t my concern. But now that it involves me, I must speak.”

“Even if that’s so, do you think things will be resolved so easily? Why would I go to such trouble to keep you here? I’ve committed treason. If His Majesty is displeased, my fate will be grim. And you—your life in this country will be no better. You’ll be hunted forever. Forget about opening your Sangju; your future will be spent hiding in shadows.”

Xuanyuan Juesi had to make it clear to this woman—it was not up to her to leave as she pleased.

“Are you joking?”

“Do I look like I’m joking? I’ve kept you here. For your sake, it’s best you don’t show yourself before the court. I’ll take care of this matter. Once it’s settled, you may leave.”

“What? Are you really going to let me go?”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was this man really going to let her go?

“If I can’t keep you, then I’ll let you go. I don’t need you to stay by my side.”

As he said this, Xuanyuan Juesi wanted nothing more than to slap himself. Why act so magnanimous? Was he really this kind of person?

He was not, yet here he was, going against so many of his true feelings.

“Fine, you said it. I’ll stay here and cooperate with you, but you’d better resolve things quickly.”

As long as he intended to settle things, that was enough for Si Nuosang—she did not want to be strung along.

“You seem rather pleased with yourself,” he observed.

“Of course. The sooner I can leave, the happier I’ll be. The next time we meet, we’ll be nothing but strangers.”

Looking at Xuanyuan Juesi, she sensed something off in the air. His face was tense, brows tightly drawn, clearly dissatisfied with her answer.

“Strangers?” he repeated softly, gazing up at the sky. It hadn’t rained today, yet the sky was as gloomy as a rainy day.

Perhaps winter was nearly upon them, bringing both the chill and the shifting moods of the heavens.

Si Nuosang said nothing further, sensing that Xuanyuan Juesi was not himself. She feared provoking him and having her departure become an even bigger issue.

In the end, she returned to her own chambers, while Xuanyuan Juesi disappeared to an unknown place. Though he was out of sight, there were still people keeping watch here.

So Si Nuosang remained in her room or in the courtyard—not out of fear, but because she had given Xuanyuan Juesi her word.

If the emperor truly intended to punish Xuanyuan Juesi, the ordeal would be hard for him to endure.

Was this really all for her sake? Otherwise, why would he agree to this now? What had happened to change him so, to make his demeanor less forceful, his resolve less unyielding?

She longed to know, yet she would not ask. For her, asking would bring no answers, only greater danger. So why bother? Her misfortune was her own.

Thinking of this, she couldn’t help feeling a touch of worry—denying it would be impossible.

And his actions left a faint discomfort in her heart.

Perhaps she didn’t truly want to leave after all—not this man who exuded the same presence as Wen Shu’an. It seemed she could never escape, not even in this ancient world. That bullet she once fired at Wen Shu’an had altered the course of their lives and changed so much else besides.

At that moment, she noticed the stone suddenly glowing. Numbers appeared upon it, but she could make no sense of them. She knew nothing of time-travel devices, and in the modern world, only four research institutes possessed such objects. She had never had contact with any of them. Someone must have bought the device and sent her back—who could it be? Shaking her head, she tried to dismiss the thought.

“There’s no way for me to go back now! What use is there in studying this? Even if it had enough energy, I wouldn’t use it.”

She placed the stone on the table and watched the light gradually fade, which took more than ten minutes.

Don’t tell her this stone was solar-powered, collecting the sun’s energy.

The idea seemed laughable—surely it wasn’t that simple. To traverse time required highly concentrated, compressed energy, an instant eruption of immense power.